"What's up?"
The trio pretended not to understand and lagged behind.
"Who are they?" asked Manuel.
"One of them's Lechuguino (the dude)," answered Leandro in a loud voice, so that his sweetheart should hear. "He's at least fifty, and he comes around here trying to play the dashing young blade; that runt with the dyed moustache is Pepe el Federal (the Federalist), and the other is Eusebio el Carnicero (the Butcher), a fellow who owns quite a number of questionable horses."
Leandro's blustering outburst appealed to one of the maidens, who turned to look at the youth and smiled at him; but Milagros was not in the least affected, and looking back, she repeatedly sought the group of three men with her glance.
At this juncture there appeared the fellow whom Leandro had designated with the sobriquet of Lechuguino, in company of the proof-reader and his wife. The three girls approached them, and Lechuguino invited Milagros to dance. Leandro glanced in anguish at his sweetheart; she, however, whirled off heedlessly. The band was playing the _pas double _from the Drummer of the Grenadiers. Lechuguino was an expert dancer; he swept his partner along as if she were a feather and as he spoke, brought his lips so close to hers that it seemed as if he were kissing her.
Leandro was at an utter loss and suffered agonies; he could not make up his mind to leave. The dance came to an end and Lechuguino accompanied Milagros to the place where her mother was sitting.
"Come. Let's be going!" said Leandro to Manuel. "If we don't, I'm sure to do something rash."
They escaped from the fair and entered a café chantant on Encomienda Street. It was deserted. Two girls were dancing on a platform; one dressed like a maja, the other, like a manólo.
Leandro, absorbed in his thoughts, said nothing; Manuel was very sleepy.